


Holiday Traditions

by TheOriginalLovelace



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2013 (2020) [14]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, Traditions, basically just references to Isle life being the worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28115412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalLovelace/pseuds/TheOriginalLovelace
Summary: There are no holiday traditions on the Isle of the Lost. Which is fair, really, because there aren't any holidays either.
Relationships: Evie/Mal (Disney)
Series: Femslash Yuletide 2013 (2020) [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036977
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Holiday Traditions

There are no holiday traditions on the Isle of the Lost. Which is fair, really, because there aren't any holidays either.

Sure, the first delivery barge after Auradon celebrates Christmas is laden down with scraps of multicolored paper and dented bows every year like clockwork but, for the unlucky people forced to call the Isle home, it just feels like another day. Thinking back, Mal might even go so far as to say the post-holiday shipment ranked as one of the worst days of the year. She and the rest of the Core Four can remember, after all, what it felt like having to wade through mounds of discarded wrapping paper and crushed pine needles in desperate search of something, anything, valuable. 

Things are different in Auradon, of course - _everything_ is different in Auradon - and holidays are no exception. Winter comes calling and all at once it's like the whole world is awash in red and green, the twinkle of lights and the glint of tinsel, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread and hot apple cider. It's new and a little bit strange but it's also wonderful and, sitting in a corner of the library - hardly what anyone would call the heart of Auradon Prep's student body's leisure space - like she is now, it's still easy to see how the AK's and their parents and everyone else could forget about the lonely little Isle floating just offshore, devoid of joy and merriment in a way nothing here is. It isn't an excuse and, good or not, she'll curse the first person who tries to use it as one, but she understands. 

Because the decorations, the wreaths and garlands and twinkly lights, that's just the start. There's food - _Lucifer_ , there's so much food - like turkey and stuffing and mashed potatoes and pies made from everything the Core Four can think of and a lot of things they can't. There's music like Mal's never heard before but secretly loves, soft and elegant, floating through the air like it's lighter than the wind. And it's beautiful, all of it, every part and piece, but she sort of hates how much, how easily, it makes her, makes _them_ , feel like outsiders. 

'It's tradition!' the AK's say, all unguarded happiness and straight white teeth and stomachs that have never ached with hunger. 'It's tradition!' they say, like it's _their_ fault they don't know how candy canes taste or what, exactly, tinsel is for or how to wrap a present. The judgment, the pity, the sheer _arrogance_ of it all sort of makes her want to scream, 'Oh yeah? Well, back on the Isle, the only traditions _we_ have are learning how to fight and steal so we don't starve and not everyone learns fast enough.' 

She doesn't, of course, doesn't actually say any of the too many things that bubble and churn like a cauldron hidden behind her teeth, because she's trying to be good now, whatever that means. But that doesn't mean it doesn't chafe, doesn't make her jaw clench or her hands ball into fists or her eyes flash with emerald fire, because it does, every time. And, no, she doesn't have anger and/or control issues or, if she does, then they all do; Jay, Carlos, and Evie, they all feel it too, the sickening mix of pity and condescension that permeates the air - even thicker than the everpresent scent of peppermint and pine - and urges them to replace it with the acidic rage and cruel spite the Isle taught so well.

Promises of future goodness notwithstanding, if they didn't know each other as well as they do, one or the other of them - probably Mal, if she's honest - would've snapped by now and been sent back to the Isle without so much as an overbaked sugar cookie to lessen the sting. Luckily, the Core Four know each other inside and out, know all the tricks and tells that give them away, and whenever one of them is about to slip, another is always there to catch them. Ever since 'tradition' became the word of the day, it's been happening more often than any of them would care to admit but, well, she supposes that can't be helped. They are who they are and there's no magic wand any of them can wave to change that, to make them more adaptable or tolerant. And if they have to grit their teeth and make a quick escape every now and then to relieve the pressure, Mal doesn't see the harm.

"You've never heard of caroling?"

Sketchbook forgotten and shoulders rigid with all-too-familiar tension, Mal straightens up in her seat and takes a quick glance around her chair to confirm no one's talking to her - it wouldn't be the first time someone started talking without bothering to ask if she was interested in conversation - but she is, thankfully, alone. But because she knows that tone, knows no AK would ask another that kind of question, it can mean only one thing: another member of the Core Four is nearby. It isn't Jay - the former thief would be at fencing practice for another hour, at least, but that still leaves Carlos and Evie to look out for.

She raises her eyes enough to survey the room but doesn't actually complete her sweep before the mystery is solved in the form of a soft reply. "No, I never have."

Evie.

Her fingers clench around the edges of her sketchbook as her eyes leap to the source of the sound with the same ease a master hunter finds their prey. She's standing just inside the doorway, her back to the room, and Mal silently urges her to turn so she'll know what to do. Evie has more patience for the AK's than the rest of them combined, after all, and she doesn't want to interrupt until she's sure that's what the other girl wants. 

"How is that possible?"

"Well," Evie begins with an elegant shrug of her shoulders, "I'd never heard a Christmas carol before coming here, so-"

"Wait, you'd never heard a Christmas song before? Really? I mean, I know things are different on the Isle but…"

Mal doesn't hear the rest because Evie chooses that moment to flick her hair over her shoulder, the minor adjustment of royal blue waves giving her the perfect cover to glance around the room. And all it takes to pull Mal from her seat and across said room is the way Evie's picture-perfect smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. 

"Hey, E." She slides into Evie's space like it's inevitable, the way a planet orbits a star, her arm slipping around her waist as she leans in to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw. It's bold, intimate, exactly the kind of thing that tends to make the AK's run for the hills; honestly, for a group of people so obsessed with things like True Love's kiss, it's kind of hilarious how prudish they are about anything more physical. "Been waiting for you."

For every word she says, there's a dozen she doesn't and she knows Evie hears every one. Talking without words is a skill every child of the Isle learns and the Core Four learned their lessons better than most. That's how she knows Evie knows that the arm around her waist means, ' _I've got you, E.'_ and the kiss, _'How do you want to handle this?'_

"Oh, M, I'm so sorry," she says, eyes warm and soft as she looks over at her. _Thank Lucifer you're here._ "I must've lost track of time." She glances briefly over Mal's shoulder, eyebrow rising and falling so fast Mal knows she's the only one who sees it move. _I didn't interrupt you, did I?_

Mal shakes her head. "Just gave me more time to draw." She waves the sketchbook for emphasis, using the movement as a distraction so she can see which AK she needs to rescue her favorite princess from. 

Pale blue dress, snow white sweater, short dark brown hair, flushed cheeks. Jane. Mal lets out a silent sigh, some of the tension draining from her frame. Because Jane is a lot of things but she isn't cruel; if she realized she'd hurt Evie's feelings she'd happily spend the next week apologizing for it.

"Oh, Evie, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you late," she says earnestly. 

Mal believes her. Her honesty, to say nothing of her kindness, is no small part of the reason Jane's one of only a handful of AK's she can stand to be around for more than a few minutes at a time.

Evie smiles and, even though it's warmer, more real, than it was a minute ago, it still isn't quite right. "It's okay, Jane, really; I don't mind." 

Jane, still red-cheeked, practically beams at her. "If you're sure…"

Evie reaches out, claiming Jane's hand and giving it a little squeeze. "I'm sure," she says, waiting for Jane's nod of agreement before she lets go.

The casual touch is a good sign and the change of topic is obviously a welcome relief but Mal isn't ready to call her rescue attempt a success just yet. "Do you wanna grab some books before we go?" _You wanna stay here for a while?_

"No, that's okay. The library will still be here tomorrow," she says, pairing her words with a charming little laugh that Mal knows would fool her if she didn't know Evie better than she knows herself. It's her eyes - it's always her eyes - that give her away, flicking out into the hall. _Leave now, please._

She squeezes her hip - _I hear you, E_ \- before she pulls away just enough to snag Evie's hand and entwine their fingers. "Okay," she says, flashing Jane a smile she doesn't have to fake. "See you later, Jane."

"Goodbye Jane."

"Bye you guys!" she says, all smiles as they step into the hall.

"You okay?" Mal asks once they're far enough away.

Evie shakes her head. "Not here."

She doesn't ask what she means, doesn't need to; she just squeezes their joined hands and steers them towards the nearest staircase. 

Neither of them say a word until they're in their room. Barely in the room - Mal literally has her back pressed against the door - but she supposes it's the thought that counts. 

"Thank you," Evie says softly, sinking down onto the edge of her bed like she's just managed to shake the weight of the world off her shoulders. It's a look Mal's become all too familiar with, especially lately.

"Anytime, E, you know that," she says and she means it. She'd do anything for Evie, least of all this. "Do...do you wanna talk about it?"

She laughs, the sound far too-high pitched to be genuine. "Not really, no." She sighs then, lashes fluttering against her cheeks as her eyes fall closed. "But I know I should."

Mal swallows, glad Evie's eyes are closed because it means she can't see her floundering. Because she's good, damn good, at AK Intervention - as she's taken to calling it - but the aftermath, the whole comforting thing? That's Evie and Carlos and sometimes even Jay's territory but it isn't Mal's. And for good reason, too. Because Mal is good at a lot of things but feelings are not one of them. 

"You don't have to," she hears herself say. "I mean, you can, you know, if you want. But you don't have to."

"That's sweet, M; thank you." Evie's lips curl up at the corners and she blindly reaches out in search of Mal's hand. But, instead of giving it to her, Mal sinks down on her knees in front of the other girl, clasping both her hands in her own. 

All of a sudden she can feel Evie's eyes on her but she can't bring herself to look up, so she stares at their joined hands instead. She doesn't really know what she's doing but it feels right so goes with it. 

"I mean it, Evie," she says. "If you wanna talk or not talk, whatever you need, I'm here for you."

" _Lucifer_ , Mal." she squeezed their hands. "You're going to ruin my makeup."

Mal scoffs and shakes her head. "Please. Like your mascara isn't waterproof." She risks a glance up at her, then, and is pleased by what she sees. Because, yes, Evie's eyes are a little glassy but she's also smiling, really smiling, which means she can push ahead, dig a little deeper into this whole thing. "You and I both know Jane's harmless, E," she says softly. "So, what happened? Who do I have to curse?"

Evie shakes her head and sighs. "It isn't about any _one_ person or one thing, not really. But all of it, all the time, all at once? I just...I needed a break. That's why I was going to the library."

"So Jane was just the last straw?"

She nods. "I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been there."

"You'd have handled it, E," Mal says, all confidence. "I know it. But, now that we're here…"

"Mal, what're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you set up the pillows, I'll sneak down to the caf for supplies, and we start our own little tradition right here. An...an anti-traditional tradition! I can even round up the boys if you want. Or it can just be us this time." She looks up at her. "Cos if we don't start doing something, something that's ours and no one else's, I think we're all gonna lose it."

"Okay," Evie says. "Let's do it. Just us, this time."

In a flash, Mal's back on her feet and out the door, the sound of Evie's startled laughter following her into the hall. Because, alright, maybe she doesn't know how to do this, doesn't know how to be traditional or how to be comforting, But she does know how to sneak into the kitchens and leave with pockets full. She knows how to talk the boys into letting her use one of their consoles for the night. She knows that Auradon isn't perfect no matter what they think and that the VK's have their work cut out for them if they're going to make it here.

But being curled up with Evie in their room, hidden away under sheets and propped up on pillows, feels like a good first step in the right direction.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I liked this one a lot and then I didn't and then I sort of did again? Idk, what do you guys think?


End file.
